


cross your heart, won’t tell no other

by serenesapphic



Series: love you to the moon and to saturn [1]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Established Relationship, F/F, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I love them so much, Minor Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau, Pre-Canon, Seasons, Teenagers, also sad I won’t lie, carolmaria, danbeau, very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29221935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenesapphic/pseuds/serenesapphic
Summary: a teenage carol and maria go through the seasons together.
Relationships: Carol Danvers & Maria Rambeau, Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau
Series: love you to the moon and to saturn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178114
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	cross your heart, won’t tell no other

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!! i figured in light of recent news we’d all like some new carolmaria content to remember them by. i wrote this entire fic in two days because i was so inspired by the idea. these really are my best girls and i’m super proud of this piece. for context purposes, this is set in the same universe as cm but it’s childhood friends to lovers instead of them meeting in the academy. so it’s several decades ago and there’s virtually no mention of technology lmao. anyways, i’ll let you have at it. please let me know your thoughts and if i should keep writing them in this au! (i probably will). thank you so much for reading and enjoy!
> 
> oh! and title is from seven by taylor swift (but you knew that already)

_ Spring _

A gentle breeze blows past the two girls lying on the emerald grass. The field seems to span endless miles, and they love it that way. Dusk had fallen in one of the moments woven together by soft laughter and open-ended questions. So now, even as violet and soft pink paint the sky, the beauty of where they lay pales in comparison to the vision that is Maria Rambeau.

Carol finds herself torn between gazing at the view of the open air and the girl next to her. She settles on Maria and stares shamelessly as Maria’s eyes are trained at the sky.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Maria quips without breaking eye contact with the budding constellation she’s been focusing on.

“Damn. Left my camera at home.” She smirks at the nearly invisible reaction on Maria’s face. 

“Sometimes I wish I could freeze time,” she admits after a pause, as if it’s her deepest secret.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Maria continues, “I’d give damn near anything to make days like this last forever.”

Carol turns on her side at that, immediately noticing the twinge of melancholy in the other girl’s tone. Now with a full view she observes knitted eyebrows and pressed lips, a telltale sign that thoughts are bubbling just beneath the surface. She isn’t entirely sure their source, but she takes a shot in the dark.

“I’m not going anywhere, you know.”

“Not by choice.” The response is too quick, too automated, for this to not have been weighing on her already. 

“Not at all.” Carol knows what she’s getting at, but elects to pretend she doesn’t.

“As badly as I want to believe that, Danvers, we both know nothing is guaranteed.”

“Why do you have to be so  _ negative _ ? Just live in the moment for once.” Carol pleads and flops back down to train her eyes on the sky.

“Why do you have to pretend everything is gonna be okay? Be realistic for once.” She fires back.

The words carry a depth that the seventeen year olds know all too well, and neither of them are willing to acknowledge. They serve as a front for the anxiety of what’s to come. The overwhelming fear of being separated from each other had followed the last few years of their time together. The older they get, the less tolerant Carol’s parents become. Every day, she waits for her entire world to be snatched from her grasp.

“I’m scared too, Maria.”

The taller girl looks over at Carol at the rare use of her first name.

“I just can’t imagine what this will be like, what  _ life _ will be like, without…”

“Us?” Carol finishes for her. “Yeah, me neither.”

“I can’t be alone again.” It comes out as a barely audible whisper, dug up from the side of Maria no one else gets to see. The side that can’t bear the thought of life without her best friend.

“Yes, you can.” Carol assures her because she knows it’s true. “But you won’t have to be.”

Again, Maria is faced with the impossible choice of giving into this false reality where Carol’s mom didn’t sneer at the sight of them together or accepting the devastating reality that one way or another, the Danvers will tear them apart. She settles for neither. Instead absorbing this moment as deeply as she can.

The silence grows impossibly loud, and Maria briefly wonders if she can go deaf from unspoken words. Longing has never felt so tangible. It suffocates her slowly and she feels her hand reach out for air beside her. Carol grabs it instinctively, slotting their fingers together in a way that had become second nature long ago. 

But after a little while longer, it no longer feels like enough. The distance is still too great. 

“C’mere,” Carol mumbles and tugs lightly on the hand she holds in her own. Maria does so without hesitation. She slides over until her head lies safely over a steadily beating heart, and their interlocked hands are wedged between them. 

When her free hand finds itself wrapped around Carol’s waist and slow-moving fingers make their way under tight curls and through her scalp, Maria sighs softer than she ever has before. This has to be her forever.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers from beneath her a few minutes later. Maria feels her heartbeat pick up.

“For what?” She keeps her voice level.

“Not being able to make this...last. That I can’t control what happens next.” It comes out slightly louder, but the vulnerability stays the same.

To admit something so heavy, so painfully real that Maria's own heart physically aches at the words, is incredibly rare for Carol. She lives in the moment, she always has. The present she has a better grip on, she can choose the “right now”. Anything outside of that has always felt too vast and unpredictable to give thought to. 

At the feeling of the heart under her ear speeding up even more, Maria slips a thumb under Carol’s loose t-shirt and strokes the skin there. She tries desperately to say what words simply cannot. It works, eventually, and she feels her body relax.

“We’ll be okay.” Maria replies. and for the first time, she almost means it.

The girls lay like that for what they both wish is an eternity, soaking in each other’s presence. 

_ Summer _

“Grow some balls, Danvers!” Maria shouts from below the diving board. She wades backward, and away from the splash zone, in anticipation of the result of her taunts.

“Bite me, Rambeau!” Carol feeds into it as per usual and gets a running start before cannonballing into the pool below. The impact is hard and disorienting, just the way she likes it. It takes a couple seconds for her to regain her bearings. The blonde rises to the surface to the sound of singular applause that somehow has a sarcastic tone. She wipes the water from her face and rolls her eyes at the still blurry figure not too far away. 

“Solid 7.” Maria says satisfactorily. She leans against the wall, leaning her elbows up on the cement to give her legs a rest. 

“No way! My form was flawless, I demand a recount.” Carol whines as she slowly moves closer. The girl across from her silently notes how long her hair has gotten, following Carol’s hand as she moves it all to one side. It falls just below her bikini top and Maria lightly shakes her head of the thought of brushing through it when they get back.

“No problem.” She closes her eyes and grins as she pretends to think about the score. “The judge has reevaluated and unfortunately, still come up with a score of 7. Points were taken off for the long ass time she had to wait for the diver to get off the board.”

“I was deciding which flip to go with!” she exclaims, finally arriving in front of a now clear Maria.

The neighborhood pool is otherwise empty, a benefit of hopping the fence long before it opens at nine that morning. A baby blue just begins to touch the sky as the diving competition seems to come to a close.

“Not her problem.” Maria shrugs and doesn’t even attempt to hide her smirk.

“Well, has the judge considered,” Carol begins as she places both hands on a very familiar underwater waist, “that the diver really loves her new two-piece?” She wades impossibly closer.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Maria retorts, unphased, “And how is that relevant?”

“It’s not, really.” Carol runs her left hand over a toned stomach and maintains her grip with the other as a knowing smile grows. “At least it wouldn’t be,” she continues, leaning into Maria’s ear. “If I wasn’t in a very new, very  _ hot _ relationship with her,” she finishes in a whisper and smirks as she feels the goosebumps cover Maria’s body.

When she lands a kiss right there and the body in front of her goes completely still, she just knows she’s won.

“I, um, don’t,” she stutters through her response as Carol kisses down her jawline, “see how-“ but the rest of her words leave her when her girlfriend settles less than an inch in front of her face.

“Admit defeat,” she whispers practically against Maria’s lips.

And for a second, she considers it. The surprisingly intoxicating scent of coconut and lemon mixed with chlorine fills her senses and her eyes close to better breathe it in. She revels in how the skin on her midsection seems to burn wherever soft hands touch it. But the second passes, and the word  _ defeat _ fills her mind instead.

She opens her eyes. “Never.” And down both of them go as Maria pulls a shell-shocked Carol underwater with her. The “O” shape the blonde’s mouth makes slowly becomes a smile as she stares through the water at the joyful look on Maria’s face at having won. Her braids almost make a halo around her head, and suddenly nothing else seems more fitting for the angel in front of her. She’d lose their little competitions every time to see her this happy, she thinks. And before she can have another thought Carol grabs her cheeks and pulls her in for an underwater kiss that has both of them floating away. The second their lips touch her body goes warm and Carol is smiling against her favorite lips.

Maria is the one to bring them up for air a few moments later, her hands still clasped behind her girlfriend’s back. 

“You cheated,” she says with a warm smile.

“Worth it.” Carol concedes before kissing her again, softer this time.

_ Fall _

The path up Carol’s steps is a familiar one, and Maria takes it with ease. She skips the three creaky ones at the top, as always, although her parents aren’t even home.

She’s just about to open the bedroom door when another one opens down the narrow hallway. A tousled mess of short blonde hair creeps out from a crack in the door. His eyes narrow, clearly trying to see her in the dimly lit space.

“It’s just me, Steve. Go back to bed.” 

“Oh,” he sighs, “one foot on the floor!” He reminds her sleepily and closes his door.

Maria scoffs at his lackadaisical attempt to set rules for them now that he knows about Carol and her relationship. It had only taken one time of being a little too loud on another night their parents weren’t home for that secret to get out. Carol teased her about it for days. He’d promised not to tell as long as they kept his own late night conquests under wraps.

She opens the door she’d come for quietly, in case its occupant had fallen asleep already. But if Maria knows Carol, and she does, she hasn’t really slept in a couple days. She’s proven right once again when tired brown eyes meet her own as she closes the door behind her.

The bedroom is somehow more of a mess than usual. The small trash can by the bed is overflowing with tissues, and there is a moat of blankets surrounding it that had likely fallen off and never been picked back up. Not to mention the socks and bras strewn about, likely another consequence of the obvious heat flashes. The only light comes from the lamp on the nightstand, but it’s bright enough to illuminate the disaster in front of her. 

“Hi,” a surprisingly hoarse voice says from the bed. She tries to wave but gives up about halfway through it.

Maria smiles pitifully. “Hi, babe.” She makes her way across the small room.

“That bad, huh?” Carol croaks out.

“Hm?”

“You only use pet names when you feel bad for me.” She squints. 

“Well, you do look like hell.” Maria admits. “And I must have just missed the tornado that came through this room because it was still halfway decent last time I was here.” She places the small paper bag she’d brought on the dresser and clears a spot in front of where Carol sits up on the bed. 

“Yeah a tornado called the fucking  _ flu _ . Cut me some slack, Rambeau.” Her eyes follow her girlfriend as she settles in the same criss cross position.

“Last time I checked the flu doesn’t paralyze you. Your hamper is only a few feet away. Try using it sometime.” She jokes, leaning forward to move a thin piece of hair from Carol’s face. When Carol instinctively leans into the brief touch, she uses the back of her hand to feel the heat emanating off of pale skin. Before she can ask how high the fever is, Carol responds.

“How is it-“ she pauses to concede to a brief coughing fit, “-that we both got caught in the same heavy ass thunderstorm, and you still look perfect?” she questions nasally.

“I told you, Danvers, I don’t get sick.” 

“Mhm, I know all about your bullshit immune system.” 

It was a long-standing joke between the two that since Maria had spent most of her toddler years constantly coming down with different variations of the flu, strep throat, and a dozen other short-lived but uncomfortable illnesses, she was now completely immune to every sickness. It had started as a way for her mother to make her feel better through rough nights, but when she met Carol it, like nearly everything else, became a challenge. One she’s been winning since the age of eight considering that was the last time she’d gotten so much as a cold.

“Not so bullshit now, huh?” she taunts, “Scoot.” Maria gestures for Carol to make room next to her.

“Uh-uh. Food first.” She points childishly toward the bag Maria came in with.

“I’m dating a three year old,” Maria mutters as she gets up to retrieve it.

“A hungry one,” she retorts with open hands, “Is it-“

“Mama’s chicken noodle soup.” she finishes. ”Made just for you when I told her you were sick.” The sincerity of the gesture is masked by the feigned annoyance in her tone.

“Aw, tell Rose I say thank you when you go back, yeah?” Her voice cuts in and out a little bit but the meaning is deciphered.

Maria nods and hands it over, pulling the bowl and spoon out of the bag.

“Can I sit now?” she asks rhetorically as Carol digs in.

“Only if you-“ The blonde sneezes four times in a row before she can continue. “ask nicely.”

“I just biked fifteen blocks to bring soup to a girl who probably threw up a couple minutes before I got here. It doesn’t get any nicer than this, Danvers.”

Carol snorts at the dramatic phrasing, immediately regretting it when her throat begins to itch again. “Fair enough.” She scoots away from where she’d been resting her head on the wall and pats the spot she’d created for Maria.

She slides in easily and adjusts so that they both of their backs lean against the headboard but Carol’s head rests heavily on her shoulder. 

“How high was your fever? You’re burning up.”

“I dunno, it was like 100 something when my dad checked this morning,” she answers distractedly as the soup quickly disappears.

“That’s helpful.” Maria sarcastically remarks but puts an arm around Carol so she can lean into her more comfortably. “And that’s not going anywhere, you know.”

“Didn’t...eat...today,” Carol responds in between chews.

“Carol, it’s ten o’clock at night. Why haven’t you eaten?” she scolds.

She shrugs but looks up at Maria. “Mom and Dad left pretty early. I didn’t get out of bed. I don’t think Steve did either.” She pauses for a second to notice how the lamplight catches Maria’s skin. “You’re beautiful.” Carol says bluntly, and kisses her on the cheek before returning to the task at hand.

It’s Maria’s turn to heat up, and she can’t help but smile at the sudden and genuine compliment. She then looks past Carol and sees the nearly empty bottle of Nyquil on the nightstand. The dots quickly connect.

“How much of that did you take?” She points to the medicine.

Carol shrugs once more. “Just drank ‘til it felt right. You want some?” She looks up with soft and dreary eyes. It isn’t clear whether she’s referring to the now empty bowl of soup or the Nyquil, but the answer is the same. 

“No thanks.” She takes the bowl and spoon from her and sets it aside. While she wants to worry about how much Carol drank seemingly right before she got there, not much can be done about it now. 

“‘kay.” She curls into Maria’s side then, wiggling until she feels comfortable. It’s adorable, and she can’t wait to tease Carol for it in the morning. She’d never been more grateful for the Danvers parents' random weekend trips than in this moment. The blonde finally settles down, tucked tightly into her, and light snores follow suit.

Maria dips down to kiss the top of her head.

“Night.”

_ Winter _

“Do I really have to keep this on the entire time?” Maria questions longingly. She turns to her left despite not being able to see anything. 

“Yes.” Carol responds shortly, keeping her eyes on the road in an attempt to keep the smile from her voice. If she isn’t careful her excitement will bubble over and likely reveal their destination. 

“Where are we going?” Her passenger asks, again. 

“I’m not sure why you think asking me for the twenty-seventh time is gonna be any different than the first time but...I’m not telling,” Carol repeats.

Maria sighs frustratedly. They’d been in Carol’s truck for almost an hour now, and she has absolutely no idea where they’re headed. When she’d been told that morning to “dress comfortable but warm but not too nice” in anticipation for that day’s events by her admittedly impulsive girlfriend, she didn’t know what to expect. Now, well into early evening, all she has is the blasting heat in the pick-up and Carol’s unusually level voice to indicate their destination. 

“A wise girl once told me that patience is a virtue.” She states matter-of-factly.

“I was talking about letting the sugar cookies cool down before you scarfed them down, Carol.”

“It’s the principle!” Carol reiterates, and at this point Maria is pretty sure she’s just repeating random words she’s heard her say out of frustration. 

“Uh huh.” 

She finally accepts her unknown fate and relaxes into the vinyl seat that’s somehow molded to her throughout the years. It’s nice and warm in the truck, a sacrifice Carol is undoubtedly making because of the occasion. She’s always warm, naturally so, while Maria is constantly wrapped in blankets and jackets to combat a consistently low body temperature. The fact that she’s definitely burning up right now only makes Maria even more anxious to see what location she’d suffer through it for. 

Thankfully, the wait ends not long after she finishes that thought, and she feels Carol park and turn off the truck. She waits impatiently for her girlfriend to circle around and open the door for her. That part she’d grown accustomed to a while ago. When their friendship first transitioned into something more, it had been one of Carol’s rules. A simple way to differentiate between then and now. 

“Madame.” She opens the door and takes Maria’s hand as she hops out with a short laugh at the honorific. Pushing her forward a bit and closing the door behind her, Carol moves her left hand to her lower back and switches Maria’s left hand into her right. “Step up.” She warns when they come up on the curb. 

“I take it this means I can’t take the blindfold off yet?” Maria proposes. 

“Almost, I promise.”

Maria focuses on trying to figure out where they are instead. The ground feels soft, grass-like, and the scent of foliage confirms that theory. 

“Why the hell are we in the woods?”

Carol laughs loudly at that, and Maria feels her eyes on her. “You don’t remember?” she asks lightly. 

Maria’s eyebrows furrow under the fabric as she tries to recall the last time they were anywhere in a forest as opposed to the hill they’ve visited every spring for years. The train of thought occupies her for longer than she realizes, as Carol’s hand stops guiding her and they finally stand still.

“You ready?” she asks, but Maria is already removing the blindfold.

She can’t help but gasp at the incredibly nostalgic sight in front of her.

“Oh,  _ Carol _ ,” she whispers. 

Even after all these years, this sight filled her with the same instinctive comfort and safety it always had. The large oak tree supported a treehouse that held more memories than she could ever retain. It was big for a treehouse, but just small enough to be supported. There was a little window, better described as a vaguely square shaped hole, in one of the walls. The roof seemed to be barely there, but it was covered just enough to survive the Louisiana rains. The dark brown wood it had been crafted from appeared lighter somehow, and far more worn. Everything somehow looks exactly the same and completely different as the last time she’d been there. Save for a ladder propped up against the side of the tree that they definitely had never been there. 

“Come on!” Carol says and pulls her along as she sprints to the tree. They make it up the ladder quickly, a wise choice considering they used to simply scale the tree to get inside. Back when they had a lot more agility and less weight. 

The inside is jarringly different. Soft fairy lights line all the walls and plush blankets she’d never seen before cover the floor. An especially thick one blocks out the window. It’s about half the size that she remembers, which is fitting considering she’d been about eight years younger the last time she’d stepped foot inside. The two of them couldn’t even stand all the way up without bursting through the roof. There’s a picnic basket placed in the middle and a bunch of pillows in a pile in the corner. The only words that comes to mind is,

“Wow.”

When she turns back to Carol prepared to tease her for all the effort she’d put into this, she’s stopped by the sight of a tear falling down her face. 

“Hey, what is it? What’s wrong?” she asks with concern. It’s unlike her girlfriend to cry at all, much less out of nowhere. 

Carol raises her eyebrows and looks at her, seemingly coming back to Earth. She wipes her face quickly, whatever feelings associated with it disappearing as well. 

“Nothing!” But an unconvinced look from Maria prompts her to explain further. “No, it’s just crazy being back here after so long, you know?”

Maria squints, but decides to let it go for now. When Carol is ready she’ll talk about it. She always does. “Yeah, it is.”

She sits on one side of the basket and watches carefully as Carol settles across from her. “Do you remember the first time I brought you here?” She asks smugly, clearly assuming she wouldn’t. 

“First day of third grade. A little buck-toothed short-haired Carol Danvers came up to me in class and whispered in my ear that she ‘had a secret spaceship’ to show me after school. It was the first time we’d ever met, and for some reason my dumbass followed you on the walk home. Got in a hell of a lot of trouble that night for it, too.”

The smile on Carol’s face is impossibly wide. “Just admit it, that was the day you fell in love,” she says with a laugh. 

Maria joins her in laughter and takes a mental picture of how happy she looks in this moment. 

“God I was so pissed at your dad when he told us we couldn’t come here anymore. And then when you moved and we couldn’t even find it...I never thought I’d be in here again. How long did it take you to find it? Are we even safe up here?” Her nostalgia quickly shifts into apprehension. 

“Trust me, we’re safe.” She elects not to answer that it had taken her over a month to rediscover the tree house she’d moved an hour away from several years ago. Also that she’d come in and reinforced the floors, as well as executed her entire workout routine every day for a week to make sure it wouldn’t fall with them inside. 

“If you say so,” she mutters, but Maria trusts her words. 

“You hungry?” Carol prompts and nudges the basket between them. Maria opens the basket to find more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches than she could possibly eat in a night. It didn’t matter, though, because they’d been her all-time favorite since she was a little girl, and Carol knew that. 

“You really outdid yourself this year, Danvers.”

For some reason those words cast a shadow over the blonde’s face. It passes though, just as quickly as it came. 

“Go big or go home.” She smirks. 

But just before Maria can push the issue, she speaks again. 

“Hey, remember that time Steve followed us here because he found out I stole all his favorite chips,” she reminisces through a mouthful of peanut butter. 

“God, how could I forget? It took us like half an hour to lose him.” The girls share an explosive laugh that time, laying down next to each other and going through sandwiches like air. 

The next few hours are spent the same way, thinking back to all of their favorite shared memories and cuddling up closer together as the night chills. The extra blankets and pillows come in handy as they get comfortable and eventually, sleepy. It’s the best night either of them had in ages, and along with tiredness, Maria is overcome with gratitude. 

“Thank you. For all of this. I love you.” she says quietly as she drifts off, her head in its safe place on Carol’s chest.

“Happy birthday, my love.” Carol whispers back. 

The next morning, Maria wakes up alone and shivering. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and looks around in confusion. Next to her, instead of her girlfriend, lies a note that’s far too small, and a black velvet box. Her heart races immediately as her gut tells her that her fear has finally come true. She opens the note hurriedly. 

_ My Maria, _

_ This was the only way I could do this. If I had let myself say goodbye, I couldn’t have left. And if I had told you, you wouldn’t have let me. You have no idea how badly I’m gonna miss you. Like, honestly, no idea. But I had to fight like hell just to stay ‘til your eighteenth. I’ll be back for you. I  _ _ promise _ _. But you don’t have to wait for me. It’s military school like we thought, which I’m pretty sure leads to the military, and I have no idea how long that’ll take. You have been...my world for so long, it feels impossible to live in one without you. But I’ll figure it out. And you will too. We have to. You can date other chicks, I guess, just not Rachel from English. I know she’s always had a thing for you but you deserve better than her. Better than me. I’m running out of space so I’ll just say that I’ll spend every day away from you counting the ones until I can come back. You will always be my forever. I love you, too. _

_ \- Danvers _

Maria doesn’t even realize she’s crying until tears begin to fall onto the paper. They’d always known this day was coming. Carol’s parents' threats to either break up or get shipped off had become promises at the beginning of senior year. Years of begging Carol to end it with her so they could at least stay in the same city had come up fruitless. It was all or nothing with that one, always had been. Maria had tried her best to prepare herself in that time, but she’s realizing now how impossible of a task that was. She wipes her face distractedly and reaches for the box, covering her mouth to muffle the sob that escapes when she opens it. 

It’s a gold necklace with  _ C+M _ engraved into a circle pendant. On the back is a little heart she slowly traces with her finger. Maria shuts the lid, hard, and presses the box to her chest, trying with every ounce of herself to go back in time to the last time she’d been in Carol’s arms. The last time she’d likely ever be in Carol’s arms, she realizes. Minutes feel like hours as she lies down and inhales what’s left of Carol’s scent as deeply as she can. 

“Forever.”

It comes out so quiet she barely hears it, but in a car far too many hours away, Carol feels it.


End file.
